Romance is Misery
by SlainBySpike
Summary: While home for the summer of her sixth year, Ginny finds an injured Draco and takes him into her home. But what is he keeping from her? And how long will she be able to hide him? DG
1. Default Chapter

(Only posting this once, so pay attention!) Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the original characters. I'm not making money off this thing, and don't believe I could. So no worries. The plot, and anything you don't recognize in this thing are mine. Unless there's something of JKR's in here that you don't remember. Or something.

Full summary: While home for the summer of her sixth year, Ginny Weasley is having the best few weeks of her life. But, unfortunately, it doesn't last long. Draco Malfoy unexpectedly comes into her life again, now harboring a dark secret. She's forced to take him into her home, but how long will she be able to keep it a secret?

'Ships: DM/GW (what else?), and just a little bit of HP/GW. Possibly some RW/HG along the way, too.

Author's Note: This is the D/G story that I've _really_ been working on, and it is MUCH better than the first one I posted. So, if you didn't like the other, at least give this one a chance.

Chapter One: Teenage Crushes and a Murder

Dark clouds, heavy with rain, rumbled threateningly above. And yet the sound never reached the boy's ears. His mind was already filled with a deafening roar that wouldn't cease, hadn't ceased since he'd escaped Malfoy Manor hours ago.

He didn't bother shielding himself from the branches and vines that lashed out at him as he hurdled through the forest, his face was already a mask of cuts, scratches, and bruises from his journey. He barely flinched as a thick branch, seemingly out of nowhere, smashed into his nose. An arched tree root hooked his foot. He didn't realize what had happened until he found himself sprawled in a deep, muddy puddle. Thrusting his arms beneath him, he lifted himself up nimbly, before continuing his aimless trek.

He was barely aware of his surroundings. Not at all aware of the long, slender blade still clenched tightly in his cold fist. He unconsciously held the blade out of striking distance of himself during his reckless gait.

His whole being ached from his journey. Open cuts and scratches stung madly on his face and the bare skin of his arms. The stitch in his side only seemed to grow in pain, never lessen. His chest heaved painfully with every step, and every known muscle in his body screamed in agony.

Lightening danced joyfully across the raven sky, snapping at the darkness briefly before vanishing once more, inky blackness reigning in its wake. Still the loud claps of thunder gained no response from Draco, the only thing overthrowing the constant roar were the few things his father-Lucius had told him before he left.

"What've you done now, boy?" The voice was cold, revealing nothing other than seething hatred for Draco. No grief. No worry. No pain.

Hate.

At last the clouds began to unload themselves. Thick, lazy drops of water slowly began drizzling over the forest. An icy drop splashed across Draco's forehead. He didn't feel it.

Finally, the pain weighing him down was too much. He collapsed just inside a wide clearing, knife flung a few feet away. His mind raced, spinning and twirling in a sickeningly fast motion. He clutched desperately at the ground, hands digging into the thick grass, trying to steady the spinning world.

The thin sheets of rain soon grew thick, soaking the world beneath quickly. The rain intensified greatly, cold blankets of wetness blinding. Draco's body shook violently beneath the frigid water. But soon the spinning feeling in his mind lessened, and his hands slowly released their grip on the earth.

Lucius' image swam below his eyelids, cold voice ringing in his ears. And then he was unconscious.

--

The young girl, fat covers tightly wound around her curled form, sat contentedly on the large sofa near the window in the living room. She gasped quietly as a thick bolt of lightening spider webbed across the sky through the water-streaked pane. She loved to watch the rain, but hated being upstairs during a storm.

Chocolate eyes gazed over the drawn blankets, out into the twilight. Cracking thunder rung through the Burrow as lightening lit up the area just beyond the window. She gave a sharp yelp as someone tapped her shoulder.

Turning around as best she could through the weight of the blankets surrounding her, she met the emerald gaze of Harry Potter.

"Gin'?" He questioned slowly, removing his crooked glasses to give them a good cleaning.

"Harry?" Ginny spoke blankly, brows slowly knitting together, "What're you doing down here?"

"Fell 'sleep. 'Bout you?" Harry mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Now Harry had mentioned it, Ginny did recall hearing the boys conversing late into the night down here. She hadn't counted on one of them falling asleep.

"Oh, I was just watching the storm. I don't like being upstairs, so near the lightening."

Harry chuckled slightly, replacing his glasses.

"I didn't mean to bother you," Ginny murmured softly.

Harry smiled, Ginny's heart skipped a beat, "You never bother me."

Ginny could feel the flaming blush spread over her cheeks. Pretending not to notice, Harry rubbed an eye beneath his glasses, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gin."

"I'll be here. Goodnight, Harry."

Harry mumbled a goodnight and shuffled off to the staircase.

Sinking deeper into the blankets, Ginny returned her gaze to the storm outside.

--

__

A scream ripped through the manor, strangled and chilling. Draco snapped to attention immediately, gaze darting around rapidly. He was in his dining room. Hadn't he just been upstairs, in his room? He felt as if he'd just awoke from a deep sleep. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and remember what he had just been doing. He felt a dull ache begin to creep slowly up his neck and rest just beneath his skull.

He was aware of the cold stone beneath his bare feet, and aware of a warm liquid covering his face and arms, aware of a cool metal clutched in his hand. Drawing his hand up to his face he opened his eyes.

A knife. His knife. The blade was stained crimson. He blinked several times. The same crimson he was covered in. He nearly leapt back as a warm pool brushed his toes. Taking a step backwards he looked down, knife lowered to his side.

A puddle of scarlet life was slowly stretching outward from the crumpled form in the center. Icy terror flooded his veins as his gaze met Narcissa's. She stared up at him, unblinking and unmoving. Her expression was not one of shock, or terror. Betrayal and sadness.

His knees nearly caved, just before Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room. At the sight of his father he straightened instinctively, jaw clenching.

"What've you done now, boy?" It may have been the shocked state Draco was in, but he could see no sign of pain or grief in Lucius' eyes. More than anything, he felt that Lucius was laughing at him.

A thin streak slipped down Draco's left cheek unbid. And then he ran. He ran for all that he was worth. Away from Lucius and his home. And his mother.

He had no means of travel, no protection other than the wand in his back pocket and the knife he unknowingly brought along. And he had no where to go. No plans. And in Draco's state, he didn't care. Couldn't, really.

Lucius had undoubtedly contacted the wizarding authorities by now, and he knew without thinking it that he had to get away.

And all that filled his mind were the last words Lucius spoke to him, his father's laughing eyes, and the scream that he may or may not have imagined before he "awoke" in the dining room.

--

Harry Potter's voice drifted through Ginny's mind. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but she could see his face clearly.

Strikingly green eyes against a pale visage, full lips stretched in a wide smile, and thick eyebrows raised in amusement.

Something was missing. His scar! Ginny focused on his forehead, trying to imagine where his scar had gone. Where once lay a still, lightening shaped scar, now thin bolts of live lightening slithered and stretched across his forehead rapidly, before disappearing again under his dark locks.

Ginny blinked several times, then focused once again on the boy's forehead.

"Peculiar," Ginny thought.

Harry's mouth was moving to unintelligible words, but suddenly one sentence stood out among the jargon.

__

What's peculiar, Gin'?

Ginny blushed. She hadn't realized Harry was listening in on her thoughts.

She could hear heavy footsteps. Looking up, she saw Harry moving towards her. She craned her neck slightly as he stepped up to her, his mouth moving once again to an empty conversation. Then he leaned over slowly and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. She closed her eyes briefly as a flaming blush quickly spread over her face. But suddenly, her mind seemed to focus on the unintelligible conversation Harry had been holding with himself, and it was now very clear what he was saying. He was talking about Quidditch. But why?

When she opened her eyes to try to figure out what was going on, it suddenly hit her. It had been a dream. The cheerful face of her mother loomed just above her, smiling kindly at her daughter. The world of smoky whiteness she had just inhabited was now replaced with the ever familiar scene of the Burrow's living room at midmorning. Harry and Ron were sitting on the rug a few feet away, conversing amiably about Quidditch.

"Mornin' luv!" Molly Weasley grinned cheekily at her youngest offspring. Ginny could feel the not-so-imaginary blush resting on her face from when she had been dreaming. Her face grew hotter, now.

"In the mood for some breakfast, then?" Molly straightened herself, smoothing the lines out of her apron and nodding toward the kitchen.

That question prompted Ginny's realization of the delicious smells wafting through the room, tempting and teasing her senses. She nodded quickly, her dream pushed away momentarily by the prospect of a happy and fed stomach. Her mother smiled, and turned back to the kitchen to prepare a plate as Ginny struggled to free herself from the tangled confines of her blanket. Too busy waging war with her covers, she didn't realize she was leaning slightly over the edge of the sofa, and with another tug at her binds she toppled over the side and landed in a heap of limbs and tangled fabric onto the hard wood floor of the Burrow.

Ron guffawed loudly, while Harry tried unsuccessfully to smother his giggles behind his hands. Ginny finally threw off her captor, now looking rather ruffled, and with an indignant "humph" strode quickly into the kitchen.

Molly Weasley was scooping strips of bacon onto a plate sitting on the table, already laden with scrambled eggs and toast. Ginny dropped into the chair pulled out for her (the only one without a dirty plate in front of it) and waited as her mother poured her a glass of juice. Molly moved away from the table with the intention of putting the feather duster and mop to work, as Ginny took a quick drink of juice.

Ginny was clothed in a shirt a few sizes too large for her, with a logo of the Chudley Cannons printed over the front. The shirt had once belonged to Ron but, to his dismay, he grew out of it. She also wore deep blue cloth pants, with yellow moons and stars on them, that went just past her knees, and a pair of thick socks.

Her striking red hair hung in tangles about her face, neck, and just past her shoulders. She ran a hand through it to try and sort out the disarray, but it caught on a tangle almost immediately. Grumbling, she removed her hand from the tangles and picked up the fork sat in front of her.

She shoveled food into her mouth as she watched her mother humming a tune to something or another while flying the dirty dishes sitting on the table into the sink. Ginny picked up her feet, pulling her legs under herself in Indian style as the mop splashed it's way under the table. She growled, fork stuck in mouth, as the feather duster paused from it's duty cleaning off the cabinets to dust Ginny's freckled nose.

"My face isn't dirty! Those are just freckles!" Ginny grumbled through a mouthful of eggs. At that moment Harry walked through the entrance of the kitchen, looked to Ginny as she spoke, and chuckled. Ginny, trying to swat the feather duster away, ignored him.

"That's the problem with these ruddy things," Ginny began, the feather duster finally taking the hint and returning to the cupboards, "they make my face look filthy."

Molly clicked her tongue at her daughter as she gathered some miniature shovels, gloves, and an assortment of other small gardening tools from a cabinet below the sink. She then donned a rather large, hot pink sunhat before heading out the kitchen door and into the Burrow's backyard. Harry grinned at Molly's retreating form, then turned to the table.

"I don't think they're ruddy, nor do they make your face look filthy." Harry stated easily, picking up a half full orange juice glass from the table before continuing, "Quite on the contrary, I've always had a soft spot for freckles." He took a swig of juice, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Must be why I hang around so many Weasleys."

Ginny's eyes were wide, she knew, but she couldn't quite wipe the look of astonishment off of her face. Harry turned to her one last time, shot her a wicked grin, and ambled out of the room.

--

Ginny sat, content, in the single armchair that occupied her room. The chair was lumpy, and some of its seams were split, with stuffing spilling out, and it was a horrible color of greenish brown… but Ginny liked the chair, despite all of its flaws. It was actually quite comfortable, and even seemed to warm her up when she was cold.

The chair kind of reminded her of herself, she admitted with a giggle.

"Lumpy and warm," She chuckled aloud at the absurdity. That, of course, was not at all why she considered the chair akin to her. She couldn't quite explain it, even to herself, but nevertheless she still felt attached to it.

Perhaps her sudden weird thoughts were coaxed into existence by the fact that she was truly very content at the moment, which could be somewhat of a rarity for Ginevra M. Weasley.

Maybe the cause of her sudden bout of happiness was the thought of returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her home away from home, in a short amount of time. Or maybe the promise of Hogsmeade visitations. Or that she would be seeing her closest and dearest friend upon her return to Hogwarts.

Or maybe it was that Harry Potter, he whom Ginny was fascinated by before she knew that he was The Boy Who Lived, seemed to show at least some form of interest in her now. It was at least better than him treating her like his kid sister, and by far better than him and the rest of the golden trio ignoring her completely.

And it was all of this that had spurred her to begin writing again. She liked to write. She mainly wrote in her small journal, now propped open in her lap at a fresh, empty page. She had been neglecting her journal for a few months now, having nothing inspiring enough happen to her to get her creative juices flowing.

And sometimes, when she was especially inspired, or when she was just in the mood… she would write short stories. And she even had a (albeit very small) book in which she wrote an occasional poem.

So, there she sat, in her lumpy chair, with a small, beaten up journal in her lap, a quill between her teeth and an open bottle of ink resting on the arm of her chair.

And she wrote.

She wrote about how she was feeling, and how Harry had been treating her, and how Ron still tried desperately to ignore her while his best friend seemed suddenly compelled to include her in their activities.

She wrote about her friend, Abigail Thistle, and how dearly she missed her. She wrote about Hogsmeade, and all the wonderful sounds and smells therein. She wrote about the changing leaves outside her window, now a nice shade of auburn, and how, just a week ago, Harry Potter had commented leisurely that they reminded him of her hair.

And that she had had to race inside the Burrow to keep him from seeing the deep crimson her face, neck, and ears had gone after that statement had clicked inside her brain, and she had realized exactly what he'd said.

Of course, Ron had not been within earshot when Harry mentioned this. Ginny was thankful of that.

She'd wrote nearly five full pages and had the motivation to carry on like that for pages still. That is, until a knock broke the silence of her room.

Her fingers snapped the book closed deftly as Harry Potter's head peeked into the room. She turned a look of curiosity toward him and he smiled.

"Mind if I come in for a second?" he pushed the door open more, not at all expecting her to deny his request. She gestured inward with her hand, and he proceeded to fully enter the room.

Ginny stuffed the book into the crack of the chair and straightened up, turning her body towards him. "Me and Ron-" Harry began, and Ginny could hear a small "humph" come from the hallway, "were just wondering," Harry pushed on, glaring at the doorway, "if you'd like to come and play a little bit of Quidditch with us." he ended brightly, pulling out his Firebolt from behind his back.

"Hmm…" Ginny tapped her chin, seriously considering his invitation. Harry's brows furrowed. He'd obviously not expected her to have to think about that question.

"Well, I am rather busy. Writing, and all…" she mumbled quietly.

"I'll let you ride my broom." Harry smiled and wiggled his broomstick in front of her, hopefully in a tempting fashion. Ginny raised an eyebrow, tempted only to tell him how very wrong that sentence sounded, but decided against it.

"Come on, Gin." Harry urged, "It'll do you good to get a bit of sun."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny teased, feigning resentment.

"Well, I'm told sunlight darkens freckles, for one." Harry grinned wickedly.

Ginny's face immediately flushed, "Yes, well," she stood up, straightening, "I, ah, suppose I could join you for a bit." she tossed her quill onto her chair and quickly screwed on the inkwell's lid before dropping it near the quill.

Harry outstretched his arm toward the open door, gesturing for her to lead the way.

--

The day after the torrential rain was such a complete change that you would have never guessed what the night before had been like. There was nary a dark cloud in the sky, and the sun beamed happily down upon the soaking world beneath, warming and beginning to dry what the night's clouds had previously drenched.

Including one thin, and at the moment, frail looking body lying amongst the water laden blades of grass.

Shoulder length silver-blonde hair clung wetly to the young man's face and neck, and his clothes hung heavy around him, thick with water. Although the sun had began heating up the world around him, Draco was still shaking, even through his slumber. His dreams were fraught with horrors, and that didn't help his shivering in the least.

It was nearing noon before his nightmares had diminished, and he soon found himself lying awake. With a splitting headache, throbbing limbs, intense hunger, and a wonder about why exactly he felt so wet, and why his bare skin was flat against something very not his bed and oddly similar to grass.

His eyes slowly opened, but his vision was blurred so badly that it took several blinks before he realized exactly where he was. He was lying outside, not in his room at Malfoy Manor, but in a small meadow of deep grass. He blinked a few more times before trying to recall exactly what had happened to him.

He recalled a dream… or was it? A dream about a girl… and a frightening man. And a knife. Yes, there was definitely a knife. And red. Lots, and lots of red.

He thought a little bit more of the red, and wondered why there was so much of it. Something was nagging at the back of his brain, something besides the headache.

And then, as if being hit by a train, the full events of the evening before came crashing into him. He bolted upright immediately, but, as the pain shocked through his body, sank back to his stomach almost as fast as he'd got up. His stomach churned violently as his mind focused on the memory of his lifeless mother, dead at his hands…

He remembered it all. His father's laughing eyes, Draco himself fleeing, and the horrible pain he had endured along his aimless trek through forests and streets. Except that he couldn't remember one thing.

He couldn't remember killing his mother. Couldn't remember it at all. Or why he would possibly want to. He loved his mother dearly, and wanted to protect her from Lucius' rage. He had always begged his mother to take him away from Lucius, tried to convince her that they could live together, far away. They'd never have to worry about the horrible fear Lucius instilled in them again. But she refused him. She told Draco that she loved his father, despite the pain he put both of them through.

Draco was disgusted, and suspected that she actually worried about what they would do for money, rather than not wanting to leave Lucius. But he would stay by his mother nevertheless. He wouldn't dare leave her in Lucius' care alone.

But his efforts were useless. She was dead, and there was nothing he could do.

Despite the fact that he couldn't remember if he had killed Narcissa or not, he refused to believe that he did.

"Not even the Imperius Curse itself could make me do it," he thought firmly.

And, he thought in disgust, it was probably Lucius himself that had committed the murder.

He was heartsick, and most probably a wanted man by now. But he pushed pain, physical and mental, away from him as he lifted himself slowly to his hands and knees. He groaned, face screwed up in determination. It had to be the death of his mother weighing heavy on his mind, because he had never felt this wretched before, not even after long grueling hours of Quidditch practice with his teammates.

He sat on his knees and pushed his upper body off of his arms so that he was in a sitting position. Even if it weren't for the pain, he would still be miserable, for the clothes clinging to his body, soaked in water and mud, felt disgusting. He would give anything for a peaceful mind and a nice, warm bubble bath. And he didn't care how girly that sounded.

The pain, and fear of vomiting up his insides if he moved around too much kept him grounded. And so he sat, trying to will away the painful thoughts of his mother while also trying to focus on figuring out what the Hell he was going to do now.

--

Ginny raked her hands through her hair as she walked, bringing them to the back of her head and then looping a ponytail holder around the wad of hair she'd gathered there. Her brother Ron, and his friend Harry were a few steps ahead of her, talking about how they were to play Quidditch and what they were going to use for the balls.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked no one in particular.

"A bit after eleven." replied Ron, grabbing a couple of apples from a bowl on the kitchen cabinet.

As they headed out the kitchen door, into the backyard they passed Molly Weasley, who waved to them with a muddy glove. Harry waved back as they headed to the shed where the brooms were kept. Ron pulled open the door and handed Ginny one of the brooms, then pulled one out for himself.

"Alright, let's get started then." Ron began to lead the way into some trees surrounding the Burrow's yard.

"Wait, Gin'-" Harry grabbed the broom from Ginny's hand, an old Shooting Star that looked about ready to wither away at any given moment, "Try out my Firebolt." he thrust out the hand holding his own broom, smiling kindly. Ginny blinked, her hand still outstretched from holding the other broom. She finally shrugged and took Harry's broom instead.

"Thanks, Harry."

Ron was now a few paces ahead of Ginny and Harry, whom both jogged slowly to catch up. Ron was muttering something, but as his two comrades joined him he quieted.

"What was that, Ron?" Harry smiled at his friend beside him; Ron didn't answer. After walking straight forward through the trees for five minutes they came to the Weasley's paddock that they could use for a quick game of Quidditch.

"Alright, this might be a little difficult, and mostly pointless with so few players, but I suppose it should be fun anyhow." Ron tossed Harry two apples, then two to Ginny as well, "Since there's really no point in having a seeker to look for inanimate objects; Harry, you'll be the chaser. I'm the keeper, and Ginny's the beater. Ginny's on my team, as she'll be tossing apples at you to keep you from scoring." he nodded at Harry, who shrugged and climbed onto his broom.

"What if I toss apples at you to keep you from blocking Harry's score?" Ginny smiled innocently at Ron, who had mounted his broom and was now hovering slightly off of the ground.

"I like my way better." he said flatly, shoving roughly off the ground, yet still not managing to get very far very fast. Ginny giggled, mounting her own broom (or rather, Harry's) and kicking off after Ron.

It didn't take much to get the Firebolt going fast, but Ginny; being used to using much weaker brooms; had pushed off much rougher than needed, and soon found herself gripping onto the broom with every ounce of strength she had. Her knuckles were white, being clenched so tightly, and her legs were wrapped securely around the broom also. Her hair felt as if the ponytail holder keeping it in place was about to fall out, and her eyes watered as the once still air now beat at her. It took a moment for her mind to register what needed to be done, but finally she calmed down after the initial shock and was able to get the broom to halt.

Harry and Ron were much farther down than she, and were both looking up at her in concern. She grinned, trying to stuff down the embarrassment rising in her face and ears, and waved heartily at them. Ron shrugged, flying off to take position. Harry smiled back, though Ginny could see he was still slightly concerned.

Ginny watched as the boys began practicing, and tried to keep herself from laughing. It really was quite entertaining to watch. Being no actual hoop that they could use, and not being able to use magic outside of school, it was really quite difficult to make a fake game of Quidditch work. Ron was forced to hold his arms above his head in a circle, hands clasped together, and Harry was trying to throw apples through, while Ron tried to dodge. It wasn't quite as difficult to score as one would think, because Ron had enough trouble getting his broom to move with both hands on it. All that Harry needed was decent aim, which he seemed to have.

As the boys continued to practice, Ginny took to flying about. She had to keep fairly low (below the tree line) in case of muggles seeing her, but she was still having quite a good time. The Firebolt moved so smoothly, and swiftly, and turned at her slightest touch. Even at its age, the Firebolt was by far the best broom Ginny had ever ridden. She accelerated, dove, and just before impact with the earth jerked back up, flying straight up through the air. She then swooped over backwards, completing a full circle, then slowed the Firebolt down and finally stopped, hovering just below the tree line. She was tempted to whoop out in excitement, but controlled the urge. She grinned, looking around for the boys to see if they were ready to begin.

She suddenly froze. Her breath caught in her chest and she felt suddenly uneasy. Harry was staring at her intensely, mouth curved slightly in the ghost of a smile. She managed to conjure up a wry smile, then turned to look at her brother. Ron looked slightly exasperated, so Ginny flew down to ask when they were planning on starting the game.

"So," Ginny started, sidling up next to Ron and his broom, "we starting this thing, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, go get ready."

"I've been ready." Ginny countered, not much liking the tone her brother was giving her.

"Just go! Go, uh, get in position!" Ron grumbled, ears reddening.

Ginny glared, but turned away from them anyway. She flew over them once again, gliding along back and forth through the clearing.

--

It had been barely five minutes since Draco had sat up, and he was now beginning to try to stand. He felt so weak at that point. Felt disgusted in himself. It wasn't that he wasn't strong, because that he most definitely was, but he could still somehow barely get himself together.

As he finally stood at his full height some minutes later, his head swam with dizziness, and he felt like something was eating at his organs. His stomach was making him particularly queasy. He was also aware that he was quite hungry, but was afraid that, even if he had some food, he would not be able to eat it. Or keep it down.

Because his leg felt like it didn't want to move, he slowly began to wiggle his foot forward, trying to coax his leg into following suit. Seconds ticked by, and nearly a full minute later his leg was finally beginning to come around. It was now at least easier to move his foot forward. He walked slowly, trying not to stumble, around in a circle for a few minutes. He again felt disgusted in himself, and also quite foolish. Having to learn how to walk again? What a joke!

He sighed deeply, continuing to move about in the meadow he had awoken in, and suddenly stopped as his foot landed on something metallic. He gingerly lifted his foot and set it just to the side of the object. Looking down, he was suddenly very thankful that his foot had only fell on the handle of the pocket knife. He bent slowly, painfully, and retrieved the knife. He looked it over carefully. No more blood.

He closed the knife and tucked it into his back pocket. He wasn't very happy about having to bring the knife along, but any extra weapons he could find were welcome. He was just about to begin walking out of the clearing when a small, red object bounced through the trees and rolled to a stop at his foot. He looked down again, this time finding an apple…

--

The game had been going on for at least 40 minutes by now, and they were having far more fun than they had previously thought. They had all taken turns as each player, but now were back to the ones they had started as. Ginny a beater, Harry chaser, and Ron keeper.

Harry had been getting progressively better at avoiding Ginny's aim, and she was usually forced to go pick up her fallen apples from the ground. But once, Ginny had lost control of her swing, and she'd thrown so hard and so wildly that the apple soared through the trees of the nearby forest. Harry grinned mockingly at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, then went down to gather her apple, which she decided she had better do before she forgot where it entered the trees at.

She let the Firebolt hover in place and dropped her remaining apple below it, then she jogged towards the trees. She knew it couldn't have got far, so she wasn't too worried. She stepped into the trees and figured it'd be easy enough to find a bright red apple through all the green and brown. She looked everywhere within a reasonable distance, but to no avail. Where could it have gotten off to?

She sighed, giving up and deciding to play with just one apple. The boys were beginning to call for her, anyway. And then she noticed it. There was a meadow, just beyond the trees she was standing in. The point in the forest where she was at was so thin between the paddock's clearing and the meadow, that the apple could have easily bounced through to the other side. She headed for the meadow, pushing vines and limbs out of her way. Finally, she leapt through the remaining trees and landed in a field of tall grass. And then, looking up, she fell backward and nearly found herself in the forest again.

Draco Malfoy's tall, lean form loomed above her. He wore, not his usual sneer, but a look of utter surprise on his face. Ginny was so shocked that she didn't even take the time to consider what he was doing there, and instead whipped out her wand and screeched the only spell that came to mind at the time.

__

"TARANTALLEGRA!"

--

A/N: Hmm, I wonder what will happen next?… Well, okay, I don't. Because I already know! -ahem- Anyway. Next chapter is already in progress, and shouldn't take too long to get up. I hope you liked this chapter! And if you did (or didn't), please let me know! Any tips, nitpicks, suggestions, _constructive _criticism welcome! But please, no senseless flames. I know it was a bit confusing because of the time difference between when Draco woke up, and when Ginny and the boys went to play Quidditch. It seemed like Draco was awakening right as they were about to go play, but that's not the case. It just seems that way because of the way I put the story together =/ Ah, well.

Dedication!: For my mommy, because she's always backed me up, and looked at all my drawings, and read my stories for me. I love you, mom! And for an author on here that I don't really know, but whose stories I really, truly cherish: Davesmom! If not for her, I would not be so in love with the Draco/Ginny 'ship. Or, at least not nearly as much as I am.


	2. Injuries and Healing Potions

A/N: Oh… My… GOD! Don't EVER let me say I'll have a new chapter posted soon! EVER! It never ends well! Anyway, after the last chapter, a series of… things… happened. My grandma came and stayed with me for a few weeks, I went to stay with my sister a couple of times, went to stay with my brother, went through a couple of funerals, had a long bout of writer's block, wasn't sure exactly what to do with this story since I had started writing it before OotP came out, and now there's some things wrong with it, and just… a ton of stuff that I'm sure you don't want to hear about. Anyway, thanks will be at the bottom, and now here's the next chapter!

Chapter two: Injuries and Healing Potions

"Boys! BOYS!" Molly Weasley yelled, jogging (as best she could) out towards the paddock. She looked quite distressed. Harry and Ron rushed to the ground as fast as their brooms would allow, and ran to meet her.

"Mum! What's wrong?" Ron gasped.

"Ron, quick, where's your sister?" Molly rushed, cheeks and ears pink.

"She just went to go find the apple she dropped, it rolled into the trees. She should be back any minute."

Molly waved her hand at him, "No time. Come with me, you two." She began hurrying back to the Burrow, Ron and Harry tagging closely along, "Your sister will come home when she finds you missing."

--

Ginny placed her hand to her mouth, horrified. She watched as Draco's legs started moving about upon their own accord. He looked so surprised, and his upper half was thrashing about, as if he didn't have the strength to keep it held up. She'd never seen the spell work that way before. His legs began pulling him towards the trees, dancing wildly. Ginny watched, too frightened to move, as Draco whipped all about, smashing into trees, bushes, and vines.

Draco's cries of pain snapped Ginny out of her stunned state. She fumbled with her wand, and finally pointed it at Draco, "_Finite Incantatum_!" she squeaked. Luckily that was enough, and Draco's legs ceased their uncontrollable dance. He shook upon his legs for a second, before crumpling to the ground in a heap. Ginny cried out, rushing towards him.

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to vomit. All the dried scratches he had acquired yesterday were now open again and bleeding. He had just received two large gashes from hitting the trees; one at the back of his head, and one on the side of his head, right near his left eye. Blood now stained his light hair, and he could feel more blood seeping down his face. He groaned lowly as a pair of feet rustled the leaves on the ground beside him.

Ginny dropped to her knees next to Draco, reaching her hand halfway to one of the large cuts on his head before stopping. She had no idea what to do. She was so terrified, she could hardly think straight! What had she done? And yet she wasn't even sure that this man didn't deserve what had happened to him. What exactly was he, Draco Malfoy, doing just beyond her backyard? And so, the only thing that made a bit of sense in her mind at this point was interrogation.

"W-what are you doing here?!" Ginny yelped, unable to control her voice's falter.

Draco cracked one eye open, putting forth the best glare he could muster at the moment, and then rasped out, "Apparently being beaten half to death by a forest."

Ginny flushed, frowning. She reached her hand the rest of the way to Draco's head, gingerly touching two fingers just below one of his new cuts. Draco flinched away at her touch, and Ginny was sure that if he had more strength, he would have instead leapt away. She lowered her hand to her side.

"I have to go get help." Ginny muttered, getting ready to stand.

"What?" Both of Draco's eyes shot open, looking to her.

"You look really bad, I have to go get my brother and Harry." She was just standing when Draco's hand shot out, faster than she would have thought possible for someone barely able to move. Draco gritted his teeth, clenching his eyes shut a moment at the pain the sudden movement had caused. He finally managed a harsh 'no' and kept the firm grasp on her wrist.

"Malfoy, let go!" Ginny cried, once again afraid.

Draco ignored her protest, "You can't let anyone know I'm here." he said quickly, as Ginny was beginning to struggle against him.

"What, are you nutters? I have to! I'm not going to leave you out here like this, Malfoy. You've got to come inside. From there, we can get my mum to contact your father." Ginny shuddered at the thought, but knew it was what needed done.

"NO!" Draco cried out suddenly, latching his other hand around Ginny's wrist.

Ginny was beginning to get very frightened now. Even in Draco's state, he was still so strong! And why didn't he want her to tell anyone he was there? What had he done? She wasn't liking the idea of staying out there alone with Draco any longer, and began trying to pull her wrist away from him. Draco growled, glaring at her, and Ginny got suddenly desperate.

"Let GO!" She screeched, yanking her hands finally away from him and quickly standing. All of the recent events Ginny had just witnessed were really beginning to freak her out, and she was starting to get very jumpy. She backed up a few paces as Draco wriggled about on the ground, trying and failing to stand.

"Listen, Malfoy," Ginny said quickly, nearly starting to stutter, "I'm just going to go and get Ron and Harry, they'll be able to carry you back to my house, and-" But she was cut off by Draco.

"Weasley, please-" He sounded so desperate, so vulnerable. And the way he looked, he was most definitely at least one of those, "Just stop, and listen to me." His eyes were pleading with her, and she could feel her resistance ebbing. Oh, why did she have to bear the curse of empathy? She slowly stopped moving, but was sure to keep a good distance between her and Draco. She looked down at him, biting the inside of her lip.

At first, Draco had been afraid she would just turn-tail and run, and then he would have to think of a means of escape, fast. Her eyes had been, and still were those of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He would have to choose his words very carefully if he didn't want the whole Weasley family, and Harry-bloody-Potter himself finding out he was there. That would sort of ruin all of his plans of keeping himself hidden.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," he began, trying to keep his voice soft and even. He was pleased to see the look of surprise on her face before her features softened. She definitely hadn't been expecting _that!_ "I… I didn't even know I was behind your house. I've… been running… away." He ended slowly, not exactly sure where he was heading.

"Running away from what?" Her voice was soft and low, barely above a whisper. The sound stirred something in Draco, but he wasn't sure what he was feeling. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to make up something, fast!

He pressed his face into his palm, then slid his hand up and over his hair. And then something struck him. He tried his best to conjure the most helpless, frightened, and disgustingly insecure voice he could, and finally squeaked out, "I was running away from home."

Ginny gasped quietly, staring down at this creature that couldn't possibly be the Draco Malfoy she knew from school. He looked utterly scared and alone, and not at all like the pompous, egotistical, smirking, sneering git that had always harassed her and her housemates. Her heart almost reached out to him. Almost. She was still rather skeptical, though. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried her best to make a "So prove it" expression, but the hapless being in front of her wasn't making it easy.

"Why were you running away from home? And why can't I tell Harry or Ron about you?" Her mind had tried to tell her voice to sound disbelieving and suspicious, but it came out more frightened than anything else.

"Listen, do you _really _think Potter or that git brother of yours would be the least bit interested in helping me? The first thing they'd do is curse me from here to Hogwarts and back! And it's already bad enough that I can barely move thanks to a beating I've just received by the wand of Weasley's sister, what makes you believe they wouldn't just finish me off?"

The pity card was definitely working in his favor. At the mention of the little incident Ginny had caused she went green in the face, and looked even more miserable than before. Draco leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows. He watched her intently, could just see the gears in her head working as she tried to decide what to do, or what else to ask him.

Ginny was so confused about what to do in this situation. It was clear that she couldn't tell Harry or Ron about him, she knew without Draco having to tell her how they would react. For one, they wouldn't believe his story, and would most likely walk Draco back to his father themselves by wand-point. But, then again, how was Ginny to be sure that Draco _wasn't _lying? It was all too much for her. She needed time to think.

But time was just about the number one thing Ginny _didn't _have at the moment. Besides, of course, a clue. She would have to hurry up and make a decision.

There was always the choice of just sending Draco back to Lucius without a backwards glance. He would be out of her hair and would certainly get the care his wounds needed from there.

Wait a second… Care? That is, quite possibly, the LAST thing Lucius Malfoy could ever offer a person. Honestly, care… What was she thinking? And she certainly didn't envy the person who had to deal with Lucius… especially after running away from home. No, she definitely couldn't send him back.

Ginny sighed. She was so lost. Her mum would know what to do in this situation… But she was quite doubtful that either of her parents would jump at the chance of helping a Malfoy.

Her nerves were beginning to overwhelm her, and Draco staring at her like that was not helping in the least.

Finally, she plastered a look of determination onto her face and met Draco's eyes. She knew what she was going to do for starters. And from there… Well, from there she would wing it.

"Come on, Draco." Ginny bent and grabbed the crook of Draco's elbow with both of her hands, tugging upward, but Draco wasn't quick to help her help him.

"Wait a second, Weasley, I'd like to know just exactly what you're going to do with me before I let you start hauling me about. If you're going to tell Potter or your brother then I'll thank you to just leave me here to wander off on my own."

Ginny waved him off with a hand, "Now, you and me both know what Ron and Harry would do to you if they knew you were here. Come on!"

But Draco was keen to notice that she didn't exactly say she _wasn't _going to tell them. However, relying on the fact that she was a goody-goody little Gryffindor who wouldn't want to see anyone get hurt, he slowly began to stand. With the two of them working together Draco was on his feet in no time, though wearing a hardened face obviously trying to mask his pain. Ginny smiled sadly at him as they began to head toward the Burrow.

Ginny hadn't heard the boys call for her in a long time. Perhaps they had given up and went back to the Burrow? Or maybe went looking for her. She doubted the latter, though, as she was sure they would have met each other by now. They were most likely still playing their game, as she knew that Quidditch was just about all those two ever thought about. She did not, however, hear either of them talking at all as her and Draco neared the edge of the tree line.

She stopped before entering the clearing, gently pushing Draco to lean against the tree he was nearest, "Hold on a moment, I'd better see if those two are still out here." He didn't bother giving her any sign that he had took that message in and she ventured out into the paddock to look for them. They weren't on the ground, nor were they in the sky. At least, from what she could see. She wouldn't put it past them to be hiding from her, playing some sort of trick. The Firebolt and apple were still where she left them, and she would think Harry to bring his broom back with him if they were leaving. Making a quick decision, she hopped on the broom and soared into the air, making a lap around the tree line before swooping back down to just outside where she left Draco. Well, she did what she could. If Harry and Ron actually were hiding out there, somewhere, at least she had tried to help Draco. She slipped off the broom and carried it to the waiting Draco, whom was now glaring at her.

"Have fun on your little joy ride? I'm not exactly in the best of situations at the moment, if you haven't noticed." Draco ground out.

"You think this is a lovely bed of roses for myself?"

"Why, yes. Just being in my presence should be a treat for you, Weasley." Draco glared, grabbing for the broom.

"Hah!" Ginny scoffed bitterly. "I'll have you know that I was only trying to help you, anyway."

Draco contemplated hopping on the broom and just flying off, as far as it would take him away from this girl. But somehow he knew that was a bad idea. Especially if he passed out while he was airborne. He grumbled to himself and swung a leg over the broom; a Firebolt, he realized. A Weasley with a Firebolt? Impossible, they were far too poor. And then he realized, with sickening clarity, that this must be Potter's broom. Grudgingly shoving hatred aside, he very gently kicked off from the ground, just enough to get the broom in the air. Then he hovered alongside Ginny as she led the way to her house.

Ginny began to get very edgy when they came into view of the Burrow, she tried her best to keep her and Draco on a path that wouldn't allow them to be seen. But, living in a house with so very many windows, it was kind of difficult. She led Draco to the small shed where her and the boys had retrieved the brooms. She instructed Draco to stay behind the shed, where he could not be seen, as she opened it and began rifling through it.

"Aha!" She exclaimed triumphantly, arriving back at Draco with a wizarding first aid kit in her hands. She wiggled it at him with a grin on her face. Draco was not exactly as thrilled as Ginny was. Healing without spells tended to be a painful, or nasty tasting experience.

"Why would you people keep a healing kit in the shed?" Draco asked, though more out of incredulity than curiosity.

"Well, think about it. Seven kids, all of us playing outside most of the time, and six brothers almost constantly fighting. Makes a load of sense, really."

"Yeah, you're right. I suppose your parents wouldn't want all of those kids inside and wrecking the house… It looks like it's barely standing as it is."

Ginny sighed, but chose to ignore that, "Alright, now, you just fly up to my room window and I'll come in in a bit. I think there's another good healing potion in the kitchen…" Ginny instructed, handing him the kit and turning to go in through the kitchen door.

"It would be a bit helpful to know exactly _which _window that was." Draco sneered.

Ginny blushed slightly, having nearly forgot that she was speaking to a Malfoy, and not a friend. She recovered quickly, though, trying not to let him know what she had done, "Oh? And here I thought Draco Malfoy knew everything there was to know."

"I don't delight myself in learning about Weasleys." Draco spat back quickly. Ginny bristled. What _was _it about him that got her so wound up?

Ginny tried to calm herself, however, and jerked a finger at her window, "That one! There! Now get up there and out of my sight!" She said furiously. She obviously hadn't tried to calm herself good enough.

"Need a bit more help than that, Weasley. Your house has got a few too many windows…" Draco noted disdainfully, sneering in distaste.

"It's the one with light blue curtains." She grumbled, again turning to leave.

"There's about four windows up there with blue curtains!" Draco growled.

Ginny made some kind of strangled, angry screaming noise before whipping around, stomping back over to Draco, hopping onto the front of the broom (much to Draco's horror), and kicking off toward her window. Draco, despite himself, clung to Ginny quickly as the broom burst through the air. The broom's back end bounced up as they stopped outside Ginny's window. She yanked the window open and crawled in, and stomped off downstairs, grumbling about Malfoys always bothering people with questions about windows.

Draco grinned devilishly as he hauled himself very carefully through the window, then drug the broom in as well (which he quickly remembered to whom it belonged and hurled it across the room). He looked around himself, around the dimly lit room he was now standing in. And suddenly he wished he hadn't. The room was quite sparse, with a low standing bed (thereon lay a few homemade quilts and some kind of stuffed animal resting on the pillow), a desk pushed into the corner with a few tall candles melted onto it and a wooden chair sitting in front, a disgusting looking armchair… some kind of… green… brown… And it's stuffing was spilling out in several places. What a… delightfully fitting room for a Weasley. Vacant and plain. Draco frowned deeply, hoping Ginny would let him stay in a broom closet instead of this room.

Not sure how much a girl would fancy having one of her enemies sitting on her very personal bed, and not quick to remove the large stack of books residing in the wooden chair, Draco opted for the armchair. He normally would just stand in the middle of the room, but his body was killing him and he knew he needed rest. He ambled over to the armchair, removing the inkwell and quill, and eased into it slowly.

--

Ginny hurried down the staircase quietly, darting glances around the living room as she reached the bottom. No one. She crept into the kitchen, again looking around shiftily. Again, no one. She breathed a thank you to absolutely nothing and dashed to one of the cabinets lining the wall. She dug through it, knowing basically what she was looking for. After knocking through most of the items in the cabinet she pulled out a bright blue bottle with a faded label around it. She read the bold, dim letters across the top: "_Aunt Aggie's Quick Clean and Heal Potion, this time with 20 percent more BLUE!_" Ginny closed the cabinet and jogged back towards the stairs, wondering exactly what "more blue" could possibly mean. She jerked quickly to a stop as a voice called to her from below.

"Ginny!" It was Ron, of course. "Where have you been?" Ginny turned her head to Ron, keeping the bottle of potion out of his sight.

"Err…"

"Oh, never mind that! We've got some news, Gin'."

--

The armchair was actually pretty comfortable, Draco noted almost begrudgingly. Very comfortable… except for one hard lump at his side that just wouldn't go away, no matter how much he shifted. Draco glared down at the side, and then noticed a small, beat up book wedged into the crack of the chair. He pulled it out by its spine, laying it face-up in his palms. And then a smirk spread over his face.

There on the front, in thin, fading gold letters read "_Journal_".

--

A/N: Well, there you have it! Slimy ol' Draco is sticking his pointy noise where it doesn't belong! Psh, like that hasn't happened before. I hope I'm getting all the characters acting pretty much like they should… I'm always worried about that sort of thing.

And can anyone answer why a healing potion needs extra blue? I mean, what the heck? Hmm… maybe it's colored for the kiddies. Makes the healing a bit more tolerable? Beats me…

This will probably end up slightly AU from the normal books (well, kind of obvious, what with the D/G pairing) because it probably won't have mention of events from Order of the Phoenix… And, come on, Harry is way too happy here. Ah, well… I'll really have to decide on what I'm going to do.

ANYWAY… On with the thank you's!

yuiyui: Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed :3 Wonderful review.

morrigan79: Thank you! Yeah, I'm sorry it was a bit confusing. I try not to let that happen. And it takes place during their Hogwarts years :) Ginny 6th, Harry and co. 7th.

aurienna: Heh, thanks for the review! Sorry I kept you waiting :( Yes, I'm pretty partial to D/G/H triangles… They're so crazy.

Weasley Heart: -BLUSH!- Thank you so much! You've no idea how much your words mean to me :D Thank you!!

Pam: Thank you for your kind words and review I hadn't intended for Harry to be quite so… uh… flirty with Ginny in the beginning. He was supposed to just be trying to get her into their little group a bit more. And now he's doing both… a lot. That boy is so uncontrollable… Anyway, thank you again :D

FeildOfPaperFlowers: This really means a lot to me! I'm really glad you decided to review :) Even the briefest notes of approval can make someone feel really good :D Thank you.

l3roken5oul: I'm so glad you liked it! Sorry if I kept you waiting, though! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well :) Thanks for your review!!


	3. Burns and Bandages

A/N: Terribly, terribly sorry how long this took. I know you don't want to hear excuses, but my family has had to endure a terrible, terrible loss this year. After which, I haven't much felt like writing. But I FINALLY got back into the fan fiction business (thanks in large part to my best friend Tori, and my favorite fan fiction author, Davesmom) and started reading and writing again. I can't believe the 6th book came out before I got this done. That's just… wow.

Anyway, I decided that this is a story set after the fourth book, in Harry's 6th year-going-on-7th Summer. Meaning that, although this occurs in his 7th year, the happenings of books 5 and 6 didn't necessarily take place. Confusing much? Yeah. I know. But it's okay, we'll figure it out together!

Anyway, without further ado, chapter three…

Chapter Three: Burns and Bandages

Draco, wondering just how much someone as bland as a Weasley could write about her life, moved one of his hands to the front cover. His finger paused at the corner, already in the process of opening the book, as a slow warmth spread through his fingertip and the palm under the book. Not another second passed before a white-hot, searing pain flashed over his hands, spreading half-way up his arms before he screamed and dropped the book to the floor.

-

Ginny mentally cursed Draco as all three heads shot up to look up the stairs. She tried not to worry herself as she quickly turned back to the two boys.

"What the bloody-"

But Ron was cut off by Ginny's quick thinking, "Err, that damn ghoul up in the attic! He's been screaming all day for some reason!"

Ron 'hmphed' a little at this, and muttered to himself, "Sounded more like a girl screaming than a ghoul, really…"

Desperately changing the subject, Ginny remembered what Ron had said earlier, "What 'news' did you have to tell me, Ron?"

Ron's face seemed to light up again as Ginny reminded him, "Ah, yes. Mum's off to some muggle city. Apparently Fred… or was it George? Anyway, one of the twins got pretty banged up. So mum will be gone for a while to look after him."

"_Look after him?_-" Ginny began incredulously, but Ron quickly went on to explain more thoroughly.

"Look, he's got hurt and some muggle woman took him to hospital, and now they won't release him until he's well enough or some rot. I don't have all of the facts yet, because mum was rushed and kind of in hysterics. She said she might be gone a few days."

While Ginny was dumbfounded at the news, she also couldn't believe her luck. Molly was off with the twins, and Arthur Weasley wasn't home much these days. Everyone knew that You-Know-Who was getting ready for a final war, and everyone at the Ministry was absolutely swamped. It didn't really matter what job they had.

"She said if she's gone too long she might send Bill or Charlie over to help look after us, and probably take us to Diagon Alley for our school things."

Ginny nodded, only partly taking all of this in as her mind wandered to Draco. She might actually get away with this. Although, she was still quite unsure of what all she was dealing with, and how exactly she could fix this… But current events happened to be in her favor at the moment.

"I should go… think about all of this in my room. Don't bother me for a while." As she turned back to continue up the stairs, she deftly pulled the bottle of potion in front of her and out of the boys' line of vision. She scurried quickly up the stairs, ignoring their creaks and groans of protest, and leaving two slightly befuddled boys behind her. She passed the door to her room, instead heading quickly into the small washroom next door. She grabbed a washcloth, ran some warm water over it, and then left for her room. She bustled through her bedroom door, leaning back against it and turning the lock behind her. Her eyes immediately found Draco's, he was standing between her bed and chair.

"_**What **in the name of Merlin are you thinking? _Screaming like that!" She muttered lowly, advancing on him slowly and dropping the bottle of potion in the empty armchair.

Draco shrugged, "An owl startled me." He tossed an envelope at Ginny's feet. She ignored it.

"Not to further inflate your ego, but I highly doubt a little owl could even so much as 'startle' you."

"Lay off, Weasley. It was nothing."

She glared at him questioningly, "Sure didn't sound like nothing. Ron didn't think so either, I'm sure. You'd just better be glad I'm so quick to wit. Now, out with it. What really happened?"

Draco could tell she meant business. But Draco was a stubborn git, "Look, Weasley, I don't have to explain myself to you-" but as he moved his hands about in normal human gesturing, Ginny could get a good look at them, and it was quite obvious to her what had happened.

"That's alright Malfoy, you don't need to explain anything. Your hands tell me everything I need to know. I do believe the popular muggle phrase goes 'caught red-handed'?"

Draco stiffened a bit, scowling and drawing his hands behind him. That wretched journal had burned them, and now they were a bright shade of red, contrasting starkly against his pale skin. But Draco's snooping and extremely rude behavior was inconsequential at the moment. A very professional and Ministry-looking envelope lay at Ginny's feet.

Ginny sighed, "Oh… bugger…" she muttered, knowing full well what was to come. Although it was her first, she'd seen plenty like them addressed to the boys before. She bent to pick up the letter, staring at it as she crossed the room to her bed and sat calmly on the corner of it. She tore it open as Draco moved toward her. He could stand it no longer. His entire body was fraught with shivers of pain, and now his hands would probably develop blisters on them. They still felt as if they were on fire. His eyes were watering and his vision blurred. He stumbled over to the bed, barely conscious of where Ginny sat, and collapsed beside her on the mattress. Ginny was about to protest, until she looked over at him and felt her emotions surge at the sight. He was out already. She brushed a few strands of hair away from his left eye, so that she could see the bruise forming quickly around it. She still couldn't believe what she'd done to him. She sighed again, turning back to the letter as she got up off of the bed and instead took a seat on the armchair. It was, of course, from the Ministry of Magic. A warning letter, that she was not allowed to use magic outside of school. It also said a letter would be sent to her mother, who was absent from the household. She groaned. She thought she might have actually been able to get away with that one. Although, she did seem to get off lucky, because the charm was cast far enough outside of a muggle village, in a forest, and probably wasn't at all noticeable. She let out a relieved breath as she crumpled the letter and envelope, and tossed them into her wastebasket. Unfortunately, she would probably still have to explain herself to her mum.

Ginny reached under her, removing the bottle of potion from the spot where it had been happily jabbing into her side. She looked over it, then to Draco. She really needed to clean those wounds up, but couldn't rightly do that while Draco was asleep. She didn't think he would be all too happy with her if he was rudely awakened by the sure sting of the potion. But, then again… when was he _ever _happy with her? She shook her head. No matter how rude he had been, she just couldn't wake him right then. Although, he did look pretty knocked out. Remembering the damp washcloth, she grabbed it up in her hand. Though she probably couldn't get away with pouring the stinging potion on his open wounds, she could at least clean off all of the blood. With her mind set, she raised up from the chair and strode easily to the bed. She sat down gently on the edge, trying her best not to rouse the sleeping young man.

He looked like complete and utter hell. Even as he slept, he shook violently, even his teeth were chattering. To make the sight more chilling, he was absolutely covered in blood, especially his face. She supposed that was due mostly to her little spell. She swallowed and tried not to think about that. She leaned over to his face with the warm washcloth and began dabbing lightly at the streaking blood. She hoped the blood wouldn't stain her bed covers, and then felt really guilty for thinking that. The blood was a bit stubborn, but eventually she almost had his entire face cleaned up. By this time his teeth had thankfully stopped chattering. He was still shivering, but not as bad. She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to rinse out the blood in the washcloth so she could start anew.

----

_Deep black clouds, clouds seemingly made of liquid, encircled Draco. He welcomed the darkness and warmth, it felt so good. So good to drift away from the harsh, hard world that haunted him while he was awake. He let himself go, let himself be suffocated by sleep. If he had only known what nightmares would befall him, perhaps he wouldn't have allowed himself to drift so deeply, but that was all out of his control. The warmth Draco was swimming in soon turned ice cold. At first the cold crept up his spine, and soon it even filled his veins._

_The screams… the screams that haunted him whether he was sleeping or awake. The screams came to him then, as loud as ever. They were a constant. Never ending, like a white noise. Only louder. Even as images that didn't have anything to do with the screaming filtered into his mind, the screams never ceased. He saw a bunch of broken images then. Most of them were the same flashes of his mother's body in a pool of her own blood. But there were others. Lucius, laughing. The forest he had found himself running through. A letter. What was it for? Too late, it was gone. He was running again, over a cobblestone street. God, he hoped nobody saw him. Now he heard someone familiar… so very familiar. Who was it? Telling him he would be safe…_

_Warmth began spilling slowly back into his body, he was swimming further and further away from the cold. Soon his entire body was warm again. The screams ebbed and finally disappeared, along with the cruel imagery. Draco breathed a sigh as he slipped into a dreamless slumber._

----

Ginny had cleaned all of the blood from Draco's head, neck, and arms. The only blood that remained on him was stained in his clothes. Finally Draco had stopped shaking. He sighed in his sleep. Earlier, his skin had been cool to the touch. Now it was rather warm. She smiled, looking over her work. Without all the blood on him, he looked really quite innocent and peaceful. Still, she knew she couldn't yet trust him. She decided that she really had to search his pockets and things for any concealed weapons, no matter how embarrassing that task would be. While he was staying with her in her house, with her unknowing family, she would take his wand away from him. If he confronted her about it, she would just have to tell him flat out that she didn't trust him in the least, and if he wanted to remain in her household without his father knowing, she would make sure her family was safe. She took a deep breath and held it as she ran her hands quickly over the front and sides of his still-damp shirt, desperately trying not to let her mind settle on the subject of the muscles she could easily feel underneath. Before letting her breath out, she patted the front pockets and down the sides of his legs. She released the breath she'd been holding. He wasn't hiding anything there. But she was sure those pants of his had back pockets, and she knew she'd have to check them before feeling completely safe. She grabbed the belt loop at Draco's hip and tugged until he was laying on his side. She sighed. Well, that was easy enough. She tried not thinking about where she was about to put her hands, but couldn't for the life of her stop the blush that crept onto her face as she patted down his back pockets. Aha! She watched Draco's face, praying his eyes didn't open, as she reached into the pocket and quickly extracted the metallic pocket-knife within.

Her eyes widened a bit, but she tried telling herself that boys often brought pocket-knives with them where-ever they went. She shoved it hastily into her pocket to dispose of later, and then quickly finished patting down the back of his legs, though didn't expect to find anything more. She was right, and knew Draco must've been in a huge hurry to have forgotten his wand like that. Maybe he had been telling the truth…

Now that that was over, Ginny looked around the room and found the discarded first aid kit she had given Draco earlier. She sat back on the bed, opened it on her lap, and pulled out a load of Quick-heal band-aids. For the small cuts along his arms and face she would just cover with these, but for the larger gashes on his head she would have to use the potion when Draco woke up.

She began quickly unwrapping the wizarding equivalent to band-aids, placing them across Draco's face. She had to admire Draco's high cheekbones as she stretched a band-aid across one cheek. His features really were quite striking, and… she hated to admit it; gorgeous. Well, if you go for that sort of "classic" sort of handsome, that is. When she was done bandaging his face, she couldn't help giggling. Hopefully those would heal enough while he was asleep so that most of them could be taken off that same day, because she was sure Draco would not be pleased with her handiwork.

Then she shifted her position so that she could easily reach his arms. She opened yet another band-aid and stretched it over one of his biceps. As her fingers pressed the adhesive side onto his skin, she felt how hard his arm was. She pretended to smooth the band-aid out with both hands and glanced quickly at Draco's face to make sure he wasn't awake and watching her. You couldn't tell just by looking at Draco how strong he was, but Ginny had felt some of his strength that very day, while Draco had been almost unable to otherwise move when he grabbed her in the forest. His entire body was tight with muscles. She inhaled sharply, looking him over once more. He still looked so innocent. But Ginny couldn't help being somewhat afraid of him.

Ginny finished applying the band-aids to his arms as fast as she could, although it wasn't exactly the quickest task. It would have been a lot faster if the band-aids hadn't had all that paper around them. It didn't help that Draco's arms were what had the most cuts on them. When she was finally done with his arms, she was half tempted to cover the cuts on Draco's neck, but every time she would think about it her face would flush horribly and she had to look away from him until the feeling passed. Finally she gave up on bandaging his neck. Her poor, tired fingers needed a rest anyhow. She tiredly stuffed the remaining bandages into the first aid kit, gathered all the garbage that had accumulated from the other band-aids and dumped them into her waste basket. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about his scalded hands at the moment, not sure if even the potion would heal burns, but she knew she'd figure out something later. And if she didn't, well, that's what he gets for trying to snoop in her personal belongings! She walked to her desk, pulled open one of the drawers, and withdrew a key to her room. She pocketed the key and then walked to her bedroom door. She paused, hand on the doorknob, and glanced over at Draco one last time. So quiet and harmless at the moment. She sighed, knowing it would never last, and ducked out of her door, locking it behind her. She was so surprised as she ran into Harry right outside of her room that she leapt away from him, her back slamming into her newly shut door.

"Wow, Gin', why so jumpy?" His smile seemed to melt her thoughts and worries about Draco away, and she couldn't help but grin back.

When she spoke, she sounded a little breathless and flustered, "Oh, I'm just not at all accustomed to having boys lurking right outside my door, that's all."

Harry feigned hurt, "I was hardly lurking! You just happened to catch me when I was heading downstairs to get a drink."

Ginny shrugged, "Call it what you will." She teased, moving away from her door and heading down the stairs. Harry followed close behind. At the base of the staircase, Ginny turned to take a seat in one of the living room's armchairs, while Harry veered into the kitchen.

"Want anything while I'm in here, Ginny?" Harry called.

"Yeah, anything to drink would be great. Thanks."

When Harry returned with two tall glasses of iced lemonade, he looked from Ginny sitting in the armchair, to the empty couch. Ginny thought she saw the flicker of a frown before he passed her a glass and sat down opposite of her on the couch. Harry's hair was a bit wet, it drooped unnaturally in his face and clung to his forehead. The look was really quite becoming. He must have just showered, Ginny realized with a skip in her heartbeat.

Ginny drank deeply from the lemonade, having not had anything to quench her thirst since her Quidditch workout out back. She had intended to come downstairs to sort out her thoughts about Draco and all of the recent events, but with Harry around her mind couldn't settle on anything like that. She looked out the large living room window, wondering how long Harry would stick around. She was stuck between wanting him to stay, and wanting him to go so that she could try to organize her mind a bit. But she did need to know when he would be leaving, and she didn't want to be rude about it, so she stuck with a neutral question.

After another drink, she cleared her throat and looked back at Harry, "So, where is that darling brother of mine?"

"Showering. He'll no doubt be down here soon to steal me away from you again."

"Oh, pity." Ginny smiled, sipping slowly at her lemonade again.

"Was there any reason you were coming downstairs? Besides the lemonade, I mean."

"Well, you know, to take a break-"

"A break? From being alone in your room?" Harry smiled crookedly at her.

"Err, yeah." Ginny blushed, and turned again to look out the window.

"You girls and your secrets. You're such a mystery."

"I thought guys _liked _a little mystery?" Ginny's comment was meant to be offhand, but when she realized what she said she couldn't help blushing and shooting a quick glance over at Harry. He wore his same crooked smile, but his eyes seemed like they were studying her, trying to figure her out. He shook his head suddenly, eyes downcast, as if he gave up trying. After sitting silently together in the room for what seemed like an eternity, they both jumped as they heard Ron's pounding footsteps echo down the staircase.

"Oy, Harry!… Oh, hey Gin'. What're you doing down here?"

"Just enjoying some lemonade with Harry, here." Ginny smiled wryly at her brother and avoided Harry's gaze when it turned on her. As Harry stood up to follow Ron, Ginny looked down at her glass and swirled its contents lightly. Harry took one last look at Ginny before Ron beckoned him again to follow, but she was still looking down at the glass in her hands. He jerked quickly away from her and jogged to and up the stairs.

Ginny felt a relieved sigh escape her, but wasn't sure why so much negative tension was released with it. Then she remembered how badly her thoughts needed sorting, and she couldn't have done it with Harry around. She inhaled sharply as her mind began to backtrack over the strange occurrences that met her that day. She was so shocked and afraid when she first found Draco lurking behind her backyard, and only hoped he was telling the truth about his father. She bit her lip, wondering if she had welcomed the enemy into her home with open arms. Why did she have to trust people? Well, at least she had made sure he didn't have a wand to use against them, and took away his pocket knife. Remembering the knife, she pulled it out of her pocket and gave it a once over. It was a pretty simple design. The knife was fairly long, and both blade and hilt were silver metal. And then, just before she closed it up, she noticed a small engraving on the blade.

At the top, just two small letters "D. T." which was, apparently, Draco's first two initials. And below that, in letters twice the size, read "_Malfoy_".

She folded the knife and thrust it into the crack of the armchair, and let it settle there under the cushion. It's not like anyone would find it there, anyway. And she just needed to keep it away from Draco.

Lord, what was she going to do with him? She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, continuing to mull her thoughts over. She absently stared out the window as the sun crept lower and lower towards the rolling green hills. She needed to get him some dry clothes. She would have to borrow some from Ron, and maybe she could find some spare clothes left behind by her other brothers. Where was he going to sleep? He definitely couldn't sleep in her room. Definitely. But it's not like she could just lay him out on a couch in the living room, either. But, then again, there were quite a few spare rooms now that all but two Weasley children had moved out. And luckily Ron's room was set away from most of the spare bedrooms. Yes, she decided, Draco would use Percy's old room. It would suit him just fine, since he was just about as stuck-up and obnoxious as Percy was.

The sun was burning a deep crimson before Ginny snapped out of her reverie and realized she needed to get some things done before nightfall. She picked herself up out of the chair, dumped the glass of melting ice into the kitchen sink, and jogged up two flights of stairs to Ron's room. She knocked thrice as she tried to catch her breath. Ron poked his freckled face out and stared at her, looking slightly bewildered.

"What is it now, Gin'?" He sounded a bit annoyed, but Ginny ignored it.

"Would you and Harry mind cooking something for dinner? We can take turns, and I'll cook tomorrow. Oh, Ron, honestly. Don't give me that look, it's not like you have to whip up a three course meal! Just something simple. Grilled cheese sandwiches would do fine."

"Sure, we'll get right on it." Harry's head popped up over Ron's shoulder, and Ginny smirked.

"Thanks, you two!" Ginny turned away quickly and headed back downstairs before Ron could complain. She'd let Harry deal with him.

"Okay, first thing's first, Ginny girl." Ginny muttered quietly to herself, pulling the key to her room out of her pocket and turning it in the lock, "Need to get Malfoy some dry clothes." She entered her room, head down, and ran smack into a bare-chested Draco. He caught her by her elbows before she could stumble backwards, and glared into her face. She could tell her wasn't pleased.

"Where have you _been_, Weasley?"

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A/N: Alright, wow. It's finally done… It's finally done? Really?… Cool… It feels like so much is lifted off of me. Let's see how long that lasts, eh? Anyway, the story will hopefully go a lot smoother now, since I now have most of the key plot points and all that jazz figured out (whereas in the beginning I was kind of just going off on a random plot bunny).

Anyway, on to the thank you's!

Mo the Deatheater: Aww, thank you! I'm so pleased you stuck around for the second chapter, and really hope you made it to the third as well. Sorry to keep you waiting, but thank you so much for your wonderful review!

AnimagisInTraining: Wow, thanks for reading and reviewing both chapters :D It is really appreciated. Hehe, we never know what's up with Ron, do we? And don't worry, I'm furiously a Draco/Ginny 'shipper as well

PnAyxTrAcKsTaR01: Thanks for the review! Short and sweet :D

Fireangel92: Hehe, don't worry! I already had that bit planned out Although, now JKR tells us that some out-of-school underage magic is looked over because the Ministry can't tell, out of a house of wizards, which wand the spells came from. Pfft. And yeah, I oftentimes feel sorry for Draco too. Not just after something particularly nasty wanders his way, either. Just in general. He seems to me to be a very sad/lonely/angry individual / Anyway, THANKS for the reviews!

Toes of the Tickled Kind: Aww, you don't think I'd really let Draco read poor Ginny's journal, do you? Nah, that's not my style. Besides, it wouldn't be all that interesting anyway, since she wouldn't have anything written about HIM in there :P Thanks for the review!

Wcoast-girl: Aww, THANK YOU so much for your kind review! I really hope you stuck around to read the third chapter. And tsk-tsk! Trying to get the author's secrets out of her, are we? Hehe. You'll just have to wait around and see what happens, hm?

Tapegnome/friend Tori: Stop giving away all my secrets, woman! Are you MAD? Anyway, thank you for helping me get back into the swing of things, and getting rid of my writer's block, and just plain THANK YOU for being such a good friend Now go update ..


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